Two AM
by Devin Trinidad
Summary: A certain thief had it in for twentieth century women. Particularly those who were ballet prima donnas.


When Anzu was a young lass, she would ecstatically snooze throughout the whole night blissfully. Not once would she rupture free from her slumber. Yet, it was to be tonight that her everyday-ahem, night-rituals were to be interrupted.

It was cold.

A low whistle pierced through the night air.

And Anzu was officially creeped out. With her vast knowledge on womanly advice passed down from generation to generation, the plucky brunette prepared to strike…

Something harshly prodded her pale cheek.

That did it.

After many years of ballet and kicking Yugi's bullies, her finely toned legs were honed to become powerful tools of destruction. With one swift motion, she kicked something fluffy. The fluffy thing fell on the floor with a booming," Bloody Ra!"

Anzu giggled as she turned on her lamp.

"What are you doing here, Ryou?" It was an innocent question designed to have an equally polite answer. However, the male before her was not about to let his reputation be all for naught.

"It's his _other_ half, woman," snarled the reply. With little effort, the albino heaved himself off the floor. "Besides, you personally asked me to call you back."

"I meant on the cell phone, duh." Anzu delicately rolled her sapphire hued eyes. "Besides, I asked for the both of you; not just you, Bakura," as she referred to the evil spirit. "And anyways, who calls at two in the morning!"

"I was out pillaging!" An exclamation burst forth from the demon in a clearly offended manner. It wasn't his fault though. Weren't women supposed to be supporting men in their pursuits to help sustain their children? Wait, that didn't come out right… He had no children… Still, a man's got to do, what a man's got to do.

"Since when are you so defensive against curfew?" The young girl's tone held an aura of bemusement as she watched the tomb robber glower in disdain.

Bakura pulled out his hair in frustration.

That was another thing about women; they could stay calm in any situation. At least, that is what he could garner after stal-I mean surveying Anzu.

In a taunting voice, Anzu finally voiced her opinion on the comical circumstances. "You may be the King of Thieves, but I am the Queen of Arguments!"

"There's no winning against you, is there," Bakura huffed in a fond way. Well. Not exactly fond, more like, I-WILL-DEVOUR-HER-SOUL-WHOLE-WHEN-SHE-DIES-BECAUSE-I-WILL-NEVER-FORGET-THE-HUMILIATION-OF-THIS-HORRID-MASSACRE-OF-MY-REPUTATION! Or the pain, let's not forget about that.

Tired with the night's events-then again who wouldn't- a yawn erupted from the dark haired adolescent. And into Yami Bakura's range of glaring distance.

A red eye twitched uncontrollably.

"Now go away. Seriously, you wake up in the middle of the night to stalk and possibly ambush people? You need to set your priorities straight, man."

"You're right. Nowadays, I can barely find the time to pickpocket people in the dead of the night." With a small sigh, he decided to return at the matter at hand. "But you told me-"

"We really care." A distinct change came over the alabaster haired male. Obviously, the nicer of the spiritual pair had spoken up.

In an effort to save his 3,000 year old alter ego from completely vanishing, Bakura had to do something drastic. If these people did not show fear, or at least a shade of respect, than who would?

"I HATE YOU BOTH!" Then he gladly partook in the habitual reflex of cursing at them both.

"Love you too, Bakura!" Accompanied with silly grins and feminine chuckles, the only girl in the group hugged the angered male.

Unbeknownst to her, an internal conflict was occurring in the recesses of her boys' minds.

_**Love you bro… as in bromance.**_

_** You two are such ninnies.**_

"Are you going to leave, or what?" Miss Mizaki may have been accommodating to her guest(s) at one point during their moonlighting, but now she was fed up with Mr. Thief King. Thankfully, Ryou fell into REM sleep during their little get together, so he wasn't there to reprimand his parasite.

Stop asking questions, wench!" it was at that point when some parts of Bakura's relinquished manliness came back to rear its ugly head.

"I can do whatever I want! Especially at," in her haste of finding a witty comment, she happened upon her digital clock," five thirty in the MORNING."

"Why is the time so bloody important!"

He glared.

He glared some more.

Apparently, twentieth century women were no longer scared witless with his visage of pure seme.

"I told you, you need to set your priorities straight!"

"WOMEN."

"You did not just go there," she said that with venom laced in a pretty bow. A present that Bakura would love to ravish at a later time, but he needed to settle a score.

"No, I am leaving."

With that said, and a smirk on his face later, he walked towards the window. BACKWARDS. Apparently ballet slippers are insanely dangerous. BACKWARDS. His Whole body lurched toward and out the window. BACKWARDS. Then HE was tangled in the branches outside Anzu's house thus saving hime from snapping his neck. How CONVENIENT. However, the only thing keeping him in the safety of the branches was his trousers… Which were practically dangling from his feet. NIKE brand all the way! So anyways, anyone who had a fetish with panty shots could have obtained a full view of his boxers. HANES go Bakura's way!

"You know, this could have blown over exceptionally well if you had come to my place at say, seven in the morning?" A smirk made its way across her features as she rested her chin in the palm of her hands.

"QUIET! Bloody woman."

Moral: Never hang out with your girlfriend in the wee hours of the morning.


End file.
